


Masquerade of the Astrals

by Xeiana



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 11:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18193808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xeiana/pseuds/Xeiana
Summary: Noctis hated suits. Well, he also despised dancing since he had the two left feet he inherited from his father, but suits were stuffy and made him feel stiff. As a lively child, Noctis had found sitting still nearly impossible. The maids always whispered behind closed doors of how the young prince once ran through the halls of the Citadel, black shirt half buttoned, forever disheveled hair hanging in his face, and only one shoe on that was the only thing that announced his presence.





	Masquerade of the Astrals

**Author's Note:**

> This is my ignoctgiftexch gift for SirPrompto! I feel so terrible that it's posted on the last day available and that it's not long enough to my standards. I had a bit of a technical mishap and my computer deleted my save file so I had to re-write everything. I hope you enjoy it! It's an idea I really wanted to expand more on and because I feel bad that the original had been more lengthy and descriptive, I'll hopefully be re-writing it again for you!

Noctis hated suits. Well, he also despised dancing since he had the two left feet he inherited from his father, but suits were stuffy and made him feel stiff. As a lively child, Noctis had found sitting still nearly impossible. The maids always whispered behind closed doors of how the young prince once ran through the halls of the Citadel, black shirt half buttoned, forever disheveled hair hanging in his face, and only one shoe on that was the only thing that announced his presence.

But that wasn’t what had been the most remembered thing of his childhood, oh no. It may have been what had transpired after that. To this, the prince allowed himself a small smile as his eyes fell upon the dancing crowd, only to dart back behind the massive pillar he was using as a hiding spot.

The moment everyone had seen on the news, and on various newspapers across Lucis and surrounding lands, was the moment he had warp-striked up the stairs. But that hadn’t been the complete kicker. It was the first warp strike he had ever performed and his destination? His father’s lap.

In the middle of very important meeting. A meeting that not only had brought major diplomats from far and wide to discuss various topics with the King himself, but notably included the Secretary of Accordo, Camelia. Although this display of a child’s refusal to wear proper royal clothing had been spun around to be Noctis’ eagerness to meet new people, it never left everyone’s mind.

Thankfully no one here could tell that he was the prince. A masquerade at its height, with required masks that could hide one’s identity and allow them to walk among each freely without the judgement of ranks or society class.

The only exception was that of his father, who had dressed up as Bahamut, ruler of all six Astrals. Then again, his father always dressed up as him. Noctis gazed down at his own formal-wear. He still felt quite stuffy in this outfit, but it was more bearable because what it represented. Or rather, _who_ is represented.

Ifrit, the Pyreburner, God of the flames.

Very few dared to spin such fantastical outfits to imitate an Astral’s physical presence, yet he was one of those few. Along with a certain headstrong Oracle who wore a dress and mask worthy of the Goddess of Ice herself to compliment him when they had been -forced- to dance the moment the orchestra had begun to play. While she had been whisked away by other potential dance partners, he had been hounded by ladies left and right, and had only escaped when they turned on each other to bicker on who was there first.

It was safe to say he had not been spotted yet. Once more Noctis went to fidget with his hair, trying to keep the strands in place while trying to avoid dislodging the red and gold metal pieces framing it to resemble fire. There was no way he could simply stay unnoticed. If he had been wearing all black, there might have been a chance unless someone headed over to admire the tables full of sylleblossoms provided by none other than the Tenebrae royal siblings. However…

No matter how small the movement he made, the metallic threads and metal caught the crystal chandeliers’ light, especially noticeable in the shadow of the pillar. He shouldn’t have jumped when a figure suddenly appeared leaning against the wall but he truly hadn’t been expecting someone that silent to show up. In an attempt to calm his fast-beating heart, the prince looked this newcomer up and down.

He was familiar.

It only took a split second for Noctis to realize who it was. Those stern eyes, even half-hidden through a realistic coeurl mask, were all too familiar.

“Marshal?” It took everything he could to not squirm like a child that misbehaved under his gaze. The marshal made a small noise, a clearing of his throat as he nodded towards the entrance where a mass of feathers was talking quite insistently with two of the glaives dressed similarly to Cor. If he had to bet a thousand gil, he would say the former had forgotten their invitation.

“Ah, I’ll go rescue the chocobo fluff.” That cracked a grin, as small as it was, from the marshal, who had turned his eyes back to tracking the king and the shield as they made their rounds through the room greeting everyone, focusing all the more when they got to the Emperor of Niflheim and his entourage, relaxing when they shook hands. Noctis found himself slowly letting out a breath as he caught the exchange. He…. Had doubts on how well the treaty was going, but so far, he heard the people of Niflheim wanting to open their ports up to trade. That at least brought him hope.

“He’ll come.” Eyes wide, Noctis immediately looked back a Cor, momentarily forgetting about Prompto for a second. It was obvious that ‘he’ meant Ignis. Did… Did he know something he didn’t? Ignis would tell him that he was coming, right? He didn’t doubt him, he loved that man with his whole heart, but he was worried something had happened in his homeland to keep him away for so long. He’d give up being a prince for him if it came to it, but it never would. He had the support of his father and that never failed to warm his entire body.

Yet still, Ignis had left the country quite suddenly when ill tidings reached him from his home. The other had quietly apologized to him but the prince had simply seen him off with well wishes for his family, and quite a few quick kisses.

A quiet clearing of the throat bought him out of his thoughts. He quietly thanked Cor when the other again pointed his eyes over towards the now-whining chocobo. He made his escape quickly, avoiding looking at the groups of women waiting for a dance partner when a woman with sharp eyes and a mask resembling the giant Zu swooped in to ‘reprimand’ the two glaives.

“Now Lib, don’t you remember the prince’s plus one?” Ah, he knew that voice, one of the most talented magic wielders the glaives had to offer. Noctis walked up with a grin while Libertus simply stared at her.

“I can take it from here, thanks. Prompto, come on.” He thanked Crowe as she exchanged a grin of her own, and pretty much dragged Prompto over to the buffet table. The yellow feather-clad young man protested, until he saw the small plates with a pile of strawberries and miniature cups of chocolate.

“Dude, you know I’m probably going to regret eating this food right?” Try as he might, Noctis knew he wouldn’t be able to get Prompto to look away from the dessert.

“Yeah I know. Gladiolus is around here somewhere…” Noctis paused, watching several strawberries being shoved into his best friend’s mouth.

“Prom, you do know you’re supposed to save at least one of those to give to your partner?” The blond stared at him and for a moment Noctis thought he really was staring at a live chocobo, one who had scarfed down at least three of the five chocolate dipped strawberries. Patting him on the shoulder with a chuckle, he parted his lips to say he had spotted Gladiolus walking towards him when something caught his eye.

Nearly gliding through the entranceway was a duo whose complimentary outfits perfectly resembled the graceful but temperamental Goddess of the Seas, the Astral lying dormant under Altissia. Noctis tried not to admit that his breath was stolen in a rush. Their outfits were amazing, but the way the man walked was…. So familiar… He stepped forward as his heart fluttered in his chest but they were soon lost in the sea of dancing couples. His eyes still searched for them desperately. He needed to know. Could it be?

“Jwamf gwoah aweadeh.”

What?

Those muffled words brought Noctis back to the here and now. Prompto chewed and swallowed the few strawberries he had been happily chewing on, clearing his throat before leveling with a look that meant he knew something that he didn’t.

“I said, just go already, I’ll be around somewhere. You can’t miss me!” With that and a nudge from Prompto, Noctis found himself stumbling into the crowd of dancing people. Crap, the one place he had wanted to avoid tonight! There was no sign of Luna either, which meant she couldn’t whisk him away. Stumbling around some dancing pairs and apologizing after he nearly stepped on a man’s foot, he came face to face with a greyish silver glove that slowly blended into a beautiful teal, the color of Leviathan.

It took a moment to steel himself, eyes, nearly painfully slow, moving up over the extended arm up the detailed jacket and tie, to stare straight into a mask that almost captured the astral in all her glory. He mumbled, rather foolishly, a hello and apology before he realized the hand had not been retracted. Wait, an offer to dance? It was rare for men to ask, but as he nodded and took the offered glove with his own, he was swept into an extended Altissian Waltz. A flash of the same Leviathan colors at the edge of the crowd that began to gather around the remaining dancers meant that this stranger could have purposely asked him to dance and not his partner, but why?

It was strange to dance without his dance partner uttering a single word; honestly all the women were quite happy to chat his ears off, and most men were the silent type or the grinning cheery fellows. But this man… He furrowed his eyebrows. Wait a moment. Cor said ‘he’ll come’, Prompto told him to go right as he saw this man walk in…

This man had such frighteningly similar emerald eyes. No, it couldn’t be!

As his heart thudded in his chest, he was suddenly dipped to the end notes of the waltz before being pulled back up and, oh Astrals! Those smooth lips brushed against his knuckles, able to feel the warmth through his thin gloves, the gentle way those fingers held his hand as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It had to be him! Before he could dare utter a word, the stranger slipped his mask off to reveal the very man who he had not seen for a few months.

“Ignis!” His mouth agape, Noctis froze for a second as his mind tried to wrap around the reality of his love actually being there before throwing his arms around the taller man. A relieved laugh slipped through his lips, uncaring who saw the obvious display of affection. Careful to not drop the mask in his hand, Ignis wrapped and arm around him and pulled him closer, lips brushing his cheek right under the flame-touched mask.

“My apologies for being away for so long, love. There were…. Complications to settle. But I am here now.” He said gently, emerald gaze gentle. Noctis shook his head, unable to contain the giddiness in his grin, brushing his lips against Ignis to reaffirm he truly was there. Ignis gathered him in his arms, content to let the dancers around them begin to spin to a new tune. As corny as it sounded, straight from one of Gladiolus’ sappy romance novels, he always felt as home being held like this. It was as if nothing could touch them. The moment that had slightly ruined when a loud whistle echoed through the ballroom, emanating from a certain blond who ignored the death glare from said prince.

“Now, Noctis… I would like to introduce you to someone who has been wanting to meet you for quite a long time,” Ignis waved a hand over to the older lady who had entered in the masquerade, “My mother.”


End file.
